


everyone loves maru

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Prompt: Nakamaru getting love from everyone.





	everyone loves maru

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Having spent most of his life as a Johnny, especially the awkward teenage years, Nakamaru was used to bizarre displays of affection. It’s not uncommon for Kame to lay on him in meetings, for Ueda to hold his hand, and there was that disgusting cheek-licking thing Jin used to do that reminded Nakamaru of an overgrown dog. That was all fine, even expected. If these guys ever stopped touching him, he’d think they were mad at him or something.

All of that considered, it’s still shocking to wake up in a tight embrace, long limbs wrapped around him like a cocoon, and there’s really only one person it could be.

“Taguchi, what are you doing in my bed,” he says flatly, realizing after the fact that it would have probably been better to leave him unconscious.

“Sleeping,” replies Taguchi. “You’re comfortable.”

“You’re weird.” Nakamaru tries to escape from his clutches, but it’s useless. “Fine,” he gives in, “but if you pun, I’m kicking you to the floor.”

“Too early to pun,” Taguchi mumbles, snuggling closer as his breathing falls even.

Defeated, Nakamaru just rolls with it. Besides, Taguchi isn’t that bad when he’s sleeping.

*

Nakamaru’s in the onsen, soaking and relaxing and enjoying the solitude when he hears footsteps approaching. He’s only mildly annoyed; even though he makes it a point to get up excruciatingly early to beat the crowds, it _is_ a public bathhouse and he can’t guarantee privacy every time. As long as this other guy doesn’t try to talk to him, he’ll deal.

The second he sees who it is, he gives up on all hopes of peace. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says politely, because all irritability aside, they’ve been friends for a long time.

Koki grins sleepily as he joins him in the water, sitting entirely too close. “You make it really hard to keep up with you,” he yawns out. “It took me forever to find out that this is where you go so early in the morning.”

“That’s a little creepy,” Nakamaru points out, wincing as he stretches his arms over his head.

Instantly, Koki is in his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Nakamaru grumbles, ‘accidentally’ stretching forward and shoving Koki back. “I just have to work it out.”

That wasn’t really the smartest thing he could say at this moment, because now Koki’s behind him, turning him to the side and kneading his knuckles into Nakamaru’s shoulder blades. Nakamaru can’t even be uncomfortable, because, well, it feels really good.

“Thanks,” Nakamaru says, “even if you’re a total stalker.”

“It’s not stalking between friends,” Koki replies, and Nakamaru decides not to argue.

*

“My band mates have been awful handsy lately,” Nakamaru complains over lunch.

Massu gives him an unimpressed look as he chows down on a triple cheeseburger. “Feel my pain.”

Nakamaru’s disappointment must show on his face, because Massu pokes his plate towards Nakamaru and he never shares his ranch-seasoned curly fries with _anyone_.

*

Finals are usually a stressful time for students, but it’s even worse when the student is a full-time idol. Even with distance learning, Nakamaru has to write research papers and take online exams that assume everyone is going to use the book so they’re purposely worded to be more difficult. With a few exceptions in the beginning, Nakamaru has had to bring his laptop to work, typing paragraphs and scrolling through .pdfs in-between rehearsals, fighting to keep his stress levels down because _he’s_ the peacemaker of the group and if he loses his cool, they’re all fucked.

This last semester is no different. Nakamaru likes to think that some sadist plans KAT-TUN’s release schedule, using Waseda’s calendar for reference, but at least it’s just a single promotion and not a _tour_ this time. That will likely be spring term.

He rushes home to find Ueda standing in his kitchen, calmly chopping up vegetables, and Nakamaru points back at the door. “I just left work… how did you get here so fast?”

“Magic,” Ueda answers. “Don’t you have studying to do?”

“Yes,” Nakamaru replies, starting to wring his wrists as the pressure gets to him. “Yes, I do.”

“Chill,” Ueda barks, and Nakamaru instantly falls still like his body is under Ueda’s direct control. “Go study. Pretend I’m not here.”

Shrugging, Nakamaru follows directions and retreats to his mess of an office. Kame won’t even step foot in this room, it’s so disorganized, and Nakamaru won’t let him touch it because he knows where everything is. But Ueda doesn’t even bat an eyelash at it when he approaches him awhile later, silently bringing him a steaming bowl of food, and Nakamaru hopes his eyes are thankful enough because he’ll lose this thought if he doesn’t type it up _right now_.

Ueda just musses his hair in forgiveness, then makes a face. “Tell me when you’re at a good stopping point.”

Nakamaru just nods, typing and typing, and finally he heaves a breath and turns towards Ueda, who’s been patiently standing behind him the entire time. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Your hair is gross,” Ueda replies, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into his bathroom. Nakamaru struggles the whole way, but there’s no point in arguing with Ueda when he’s hell-bent on something, and this time ‘something’ is shoving Nakamaru into the shower and washing his hair.

He gives up trying to be modest and just lets it happen, helped along by the forceful scrub of Ueda’s fingers along his scalp, and Nakamaru thinks he learned something useful in that drama where he was a gay hairdresser after all.

“Are you going to clean my house next?” Nakamaru teases after they dry off.

Ueda narrows his eyes. “I’m not a fucking maid,” and Nakamaru decides not to press his luck.

*

After thirteen years of friendship, or something like it, Nakamaru is fairly certain that Kamenashi Kazuya is a sadist. It’s always the small, quiet ones, he thinks to himself as he prepares to bungee jump from the top of the Tokyo Dome yet again, Kame’s voice trolling in his earpiece the whole way.

Sometimes Nakamaru thinks that his entire existence in this group is for everyone’s entertainment. Which would be awesome if it was actually because he was funny, not scared out of his mind when he’s about to step off a platform into _sudden death_.

He’s done it before, but it doesn’t get any easier, and the only thing worse than jumping is the disappointment in everyone’s eyes that they try to hide when he doesn’t. He saw that two years ago and doesn’t want to see it again, and this time he only gets once chance. On one hand, it’s only one night he has to do this, and on the other, it’s only one night he _has_ to do this.

Nakamaru closes his eyes, says his prayers, and steps forward. It’s a rush of gravity and screaming – from the fans and himself – and it feels like his heart is jumping out of his throat when he reaches the end of the line and bounces back up. He’s so terrified that he’s stone still, his breath coming in gasps because he can’t hold it forever, and by the time he’s being lowered down by three pairs of hands, he doesn’t have any fight left in him.

“You all better applaud!” he hears Kame yell, sounding like he’s underwater, along with the roar of the audience. “That took a lot of courage just now!”

Nakamaru supposes Kame’s not a _complete_ sadist, because he’d purposely scheduled Koki, Ueda, and Taguchi’s solos directly after this stunt to give Nakamaru time to recooperate. He also effortlessly carries Nakamaru backstage, carefully sitting him down on the couch and plopping right next to him. Then Kame pulls Nakamaru into his arms, stroking his hair and patting his back until Nakamaru has calmed down enough to actually count his heartbeats.

Kame cradles him like a child, softly singing Ueda’s solo into his forehead and it’s the most relaxing thing in the world.

*

(Nakamaru didn’t even know Jin was still in Japan until his phone rang at two-thirty in the morning, the soft, fluttery melody of Seasons sung into his ear, and Nakamaru’s glad that Jin talked him into making a secret Twitter to whine about things like not being able to sleep.)


End file.
